His Discarded Wife Was The Real Boss

The doorman buzzed me in, though he couldn't bring himself to meet my eyes.

He shifted his weight, studying the marble floor as I passed. He knew. Everyone knew.

I took the elevator to the penthouse, my stomach churning with a mix of dread and fury. I punched in my code. Dustin's arrogance was absolute; he hadn't even bothered to change the locks.

He doubtless thought I would come crawling back.

The apartment was suffocating, reeking of cheap, sickly sweet vanilla perfume.

It was nauseating.

I walked straight to the master bedroom. The wall safe was ajar. Panic hammered against my ribs.

I reached inside.

Empty.

My mother's ring was gone.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in."

I spun around.

Jami was standing in the doorway, draped in my silk robe-the one I had bought in Paris. And there, around her neck, dangling on a flimsy gold chain, was my mother's sapphire ring.

"Take it off," I said. My voice was low. Dangerous.

Jami laughed, a shrill, grating sound. She fingered the sapphire possessively.

"Finders keepers. Dustin said I could have anything I wanted."

"That is an heirloom, Jami. It belonged to my grandmother. Give it to me."

I stepped forward.

She screamed.

"Dustin! She is attacking me!"

She threw herself back against the doorframe, clutching her stomach in a theatrical display of distress.

Dustin appeared instantly. He was shirtless, a towel low around his waist. He looked at me with pure disgust.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

I pointed a trembling finger at Jami. "She has my mother's ring."

Dustin glanced at the necklace, dismissive.

"It is just a ring, Eliana. I will buy you a better one. Let her have it. She likes the blue."

It wasn't about the blue.

It was about heritage. It was the only thing I owned that his money hadn't touched.

"No."

I lunged for Jami.

I grabbed the chain. Jami shrieked and yanked back. The old gold snapped with a fragile pop.

The sapphire slid off the chain and skittered across the hardwood floor.

"You crazy bitch!" Jami yelled.

She raised her hand to scratch me, but I was faster. I caught her wrist.

And I slapped her.

It was a sharp, cracking sound that echoed off the walls. Her head snapped to the side.

Suddenly, the world tilted.

Dustin shoved me. He didn't hold back. He used his full weight, the brute strength of a man accustomed to violence.

I flew backward.

My head cracked against the solid oak nightstand.

Pain exploded behind my eyes, blinding white and hot. I slumped to the floor. Warmth trickled down the side of my face.

Blood.

I looked up through the haze. Dustin was staring down at me. He saw the blood pooling on the floor. He saw my eyes rolling back.

But then Jami groaned.

"My baby!" she wailed, clutching her stomach. "I think she hurt the baby!"

She was faking it. I knew it, and deep down, he had to know it too.

But Dustin turned his back on me.

He stepped over my legs. He stepped over my bleeding body to get to her.

"Are you okay, baby? Let me help you up," he cooed to her.

I lay there on the cold floor. I watched him comfort the woman who stole my life while I bled out on the wood I had polished with my own hands.

Something inside me finally snapped.

It wasn't a bone. It was the tether-the invisible, pathetic thread that had kept me hoping.

I reached out with a trembling hand. I found the sapphire ring under the bed. I closed my fist around it.

The marriage died in that moment.

I pulled myself up. The room was spinning violently.

I walked out.

Blood dripped from my chin onto my shirt, blooming in dark red flowers.

I walked past them. Dustin didn't even look up.

I walked into the elevator. I stared directly at the security camera.

I made sure the lens captured every drop of blood. I made sure the doorman saw the ruin of my face.

I wasn't a wife anymore.

I was a witness.

And I was going to bury him.